


Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

by anastasiapullingteeth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joly wants to marry those he loves the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the jxmxb week a while ago and well...
> 
> Please be gentle with me, english is not my first language.
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://anastasiapullingteeth.tumblr.com/post/63396779797/hey-baby-i-think-i-wanna-marry-you-graphic-by-the/)
> 
> * * *

Looking back, Joly couldn’t remember what exactly had prompted him to make that decision. Maybe was the movie Éponine had chosen that weekend ( _P.S. I Love You_ ) or the new book of poetry Jehan had bought and was determined to text them all his favorite parts (which happen to be practically the entire book). Whichever had been the reason, Joly was sure this was the best idea he’d ever had in his entire life. If only he hadn’t shared it with the little poet.

Joly was at the apartment that Jehan and Grantaire shared. Jehan had looked pale for a couple of weeks now and, even though he assured that everything was wonderful and it was only sleep deprivation, the young doctor wouldn’t take any risk.

"I’m fine, I swear. You’re the one that looks a little bit absent, it’s everything okay?"

"… Right, I need to tell you something but you have to promise me no one, and I mean absolutely no one will know about this, okay?"

Jehan was shocked. It could be possible that his friend’s biggest fear finally had a reason to be and he was suffering from a dreadful disease? Why would he want to keep it a secret? After all, Bossuet and Musichetta had the right to know.

"Jehan?" The poet realized Joly was waiting for him to answer the question. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, of course I’ll keep the secret." _At least until I find a way to help you_ , he thought.

"Thanks…" the doctor muttered. He set his eyes on the floor and breathed out a few times before speak again, "iwanttoaskbossuetandmusichettatomarryme."

"Excuse me, would you say that again?"

"I said I- I want to ask Bossuet and Musichetta to marry me." Jehan’s eyes widened instantly but he didn’t make a sound. "I know what you’re thinking," Joly continued. "Everybody’ll say is stupid and that we don’t need anybody’s approval but this is important to me. I want to do this right with them, I want to spend the rest of my life with them, I-." In that moment, Jehan squealed out of happiness and threw himself into Joly’s arms, wrapping him in a big hug.

"I can’t believe you’re finally doing it! You gotta let me help you. This will be the most amazing proposal France, no, THE ENTIRE WORLD has ever seen. You have to wear the perfect outfit, I’ll choose it for you, of course. Oh! And you totally need a very special place, that’s important, and-." Jehan stopped mid-sentence, staring at Joly as if he’d just had an epiphany. "I’ll write you the speech, consider it a fact."

"Jehan, wait a sec. Listen, I really appreciate your help and most of all that you’re positive about this, but… I’ll write the speech myself. I wanna make them know how much I love them and how much they mean to me with my own words. I know it won’t be as good as the things you write, I mean, it won’t be poetry or anything but it would be… me."

The little poet took his friend’s hands between his own and gave him a sweet smile. “That, my dear Joly, that’s poetry.”

 

* * *

 

The following days were a nightmare for Joly. Between College, his job at the Hospital and all the arrangements for the Big Day, he barely had time to rest. Jehan was helping him a lot with the details and had insisted on include the rest of the Amis, so now the entire group was involved ( _I'll take care of the outfit_ , Cosette had said, _you do the rest_ ). Everything was going according to the plan; everybody was really excited and didn’t stop contributing with ideas (“You should ask them at the Eiffel Tower. Or is that a cliché? No, no, hold on, what if you write something on the sky?! OH WAIT! WE SHOULD DO A FLASHMOB!”, “For the millionth time, Courfeyrac, shut the fuck up!”). However, there was something Joly hadn’t predicted, that Bossuet and Musichetta had begun to suspect something was going on.

" _Mon amour_ , you haven’t slept well in days and you hardly eat, are you feeling sick?” his girlfriend asked the Monday before the Big Day. “Why don’t you take a day out? Bossuet and I would do the same. I’d make some hot chocolate and we could snuggle in bed and watch a movie. How about that?” Joly was aware he needed a break, but if he stopped now, there was no way he had everything ready on Saturday. Musichetta’s offer was very hard to decline, especially when she looked at him with those big brown eyes, but he had to.

 

* * *

 

Saturday was finally here. They had split up in groups. Cosette and Éponine were in charge of pick Musichetta up at the bookstore where she worked in and take her to the garden where everything would take place. Meanwhile, Bahorel and Grantaire would wait for Bossuet outside his office and be sure he’d make it in one piece. The rest of the Amis would wait in the garden, ready to welcome them.

"Are you nervous?" Feuilly asked patting his shoulder.

"My hands are sweating and my heartbeat is racing but I just _know_ I’m not dying, this is the best day of my life.”

"Calm down, Romeo, you’re hyperventilating."

"I don’t want to scare anyone, but Eagle1 and Lovebird at 12, I repeat, EAGLE1 AND LOVEBIRD AT 12.”

"Everybody, to your positions!" Enjolras commanded ( _always the chief, uh?_ ). “And by the way, Courfeyrac, that’d be 3, not 12.” ( _… buzzkill_ )

Bossuet and Musichetta arrived holding hands, closely followed by their escort. The garden was beautifully adorned; Joly had always preached of being simple, but thanks to Jehan, everything looked came out of one of those paintings he’d once seen at The Louvre. They were installed at a gazebo decorated with white flowers; all around, it was possible to notice multi-colored flowers in the most beautiful arrangements Joly’d ever seen. In the side, someone had settled a table with canapés and red wine. It was impressive how much they could achieve when they sent Combeferre to negotiate with the managers of the place.

As soon as the couple reached the gazebo, everyone cheered while Joly was moving slowly towards them. The rest of the group place themselves behind him, forming a semicircle.

"Bossuet, ‘Chetta," the doctor began, taking their hands. "I know you’re wondering why I asked you to be here this day. Grataire even ask me why I chose this garden among all the beautiful places around Paris." Grantaire saluted with his hand at the mention of his name. "Well, I hope you both remember we came here during our first anniversary. We had planned a big celebration, but everything went wrong. ‘Chetta, you couldn’t leave the bookstore in time because Claude’s wife went into labor a few minutes earlier and all came into chaos. And you, Bossuet, you had an accident at the office and broke your thumb. I can still remember your face when I saw you coming through the hospital doors." Joly looked down at their hands, intertwined, as if trying to remember. "Musichetta met us there a couple of hours later and when we leave, it was almost midnight, we’d lost the reservation".

“Oh, man, that sucks.” Someone whispered, maybe Bahorel.

Joly laughed softly. “It had been an awful day but then, Musichetta saw this garden on our way home and insisted we stopped by for a little while. Bossuet cut off three flowers and handed one to each one of us. It was the first time in the whole day that we looked thoroughly happy and then I knew it. I knew I wanted this in my life, forever. The awareness that no matter how rough had been my day, you two would be at home waiting for me with a smile and a kiss. That no matter how hard it’s to live with each other, we’d always had a gentle touch and a loving word. It’s been hard but it’s been worth it. You’re my best friends and, for the past three years, those with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. So, Musichetta and Bossuet… would you marry me?”

"Yes," they answered in unison, without second thoughts, and it was like music for the audience. Joly could feel the air coming back to his lungs.

The lights of the garden went on successively; all around was quiet. Cosette and Jehan were shedding silent tears, moved by the lovely scene in front of them. Even Enjolras was smiling broadly.

 

* * *

 

After that, the entire group burst with joy. Everybody was grinning, laughing and eating the canapés. Musichetta was glowing. “Why it took you so long? I’ve wanted to marry you both for ages!” she admitted, hugging her men. Bossuet stumbled as he stepped forward and the glass of wine he was holding landed on a nearby stone. Joly was certain he was ready to live this way; with the people he loved the most.


End file.
